


Safe Harbors

by RivetingFabrications



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, neightbors au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 07:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9872828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RivetingFabrications/pseuds/RivetingFabrications
Summary: When a cat escapes onto Shiro's balcony, he meets the cute neighbor from Flat 16.07 whom he's never worked up the nerve to talk to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://crowlines.tumblr.com/post/152889146451/shiro-and-keith-are-neighbors-in-an-apartment/) !

“ _Mew_.”

Shiro jolts back with a surprised shout, concentration broken as he registers something warm and fuzzy brushing by his leg. His chair skids back as he abruptly stands, frantically scouring the floor for rats or rogue (furry) cockroaches. Instead, a soft grey tabby cat recoils in surprise at his voice, backing away furiously.

“I – _holy_.” Shiro exhales in a sharp rush of breath in relief and bewilderment. “Where’d you come from?” He glances to where he’d opened the balcony door to get some fresh air, the white translucent drapes fluttering gently in the breeze. He stoops down, the cat eyeing him suspiciously from its vantage point by the table leg.

“Hey,” he says, gentling his voice, and the cat cocks its head at him in curiosity, ears twitching towards him. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He maneuvers himself into sitting in a cross-legged position, waiting patiently as he stretches his hand out, stopping a few inches away from the cat. The tabby eyes the hand, then proceeds to clean its paws thoroughly, preoccupied with its new task and completely ignoring Shiro. Though he drops his blatantly ignored palm, Shiro waits patiently until the cat finishes washing itself, tail twitching a little as it regards Shiro once more.

“Promise I won’t shout like that again, all right?” placates Shiro. The cat seems to accept both his apology and his promise if the twitch of its whiskers is any indication. Padding over to him, the tabby nuzzles the denim of his jeans before clambering over his legs to nestle in his lap happily.

“You’re a cute one,” hums Shiro, secretly pleased as he gingerly scratches between its ears to elicit a purr before the cat stretches and closes its – _her_ eyes contentedly.

“Still, though, who do you belong to?” Shiro murmurs absentmindedly, but the feline only purrs at him once more, ears twitching when the sound of Shiro’s doorbell rings. Shiro groans – Lance _had_ promised to return his books today, but he’d said he would show up after dinner.

“One minute!” he calls distractedly, gingerly scooping up the cat into his arm and approaching the door. He manages to gracefully turn the lock without disturbing the tabby, turning the handle and –

Shiro flushes a little, immediately self-conscious when he sees who’s standing on his doorstep.

“Um, hey,” says Shiro’s neighbor at Flat 16.07 whom he’s never worked up the nerve to talk to, a mess of black hair and dark eyes and pale skin that makes Shiro’s stomach flip flop with unwarranted nerves. “I’m really sorry to disturb you, but I think I saw my cat climb onto your balcony – did you see her by any chance?”

“Y-Yeah, she’s here,” answers Shiro immediately, opening the door wider with his toe to accommodate the cat now purring in the crook of his elbow. He does his best to ignore the aborted flinch and the way his neighbor’s eyes widen fractionally at the sight of his missing limb– he hadn’t bothered to attach his prosthesis– and gently offers the cat cradled in his arm to the man.

“I’m so sorry about this,” apologizes his neighbor profusely, gaze immediately flickering away from the sight of his stump abashedly, focusing instead on the feline. Shiro startles when the cat suddenly wriggles out of his arm to leap onto the floor, claws clicking against the varnish. She pads over to the stranger’s leg and rubs her head against his pants contentedly. “Ellie can be a bit of a wanderer – I should have kept a better eye on her.”

“No worries,” offers Shiro warmly. “She wasn’t a bother at all.”

“That’s good.” His neighbor sighs a breath of relief, gathering the cat into his arms, blinks as he seems to remember something. “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself – I’m Keith, we live next door to each other.

“Takashi, but my friends call me Shiro.” He smiles amiably at Keith, subtly taking a half step to the right so that the door jamb obscures his stump. He holds his left hand out for a handshake. Keith instinctually extends his right, but makes the switch quickly. His grip is warm and strong and somehow comforting in its firmness.

“Shiro,” says Keith, rolling the _r_ over his tongue as if to taste the syllables. Shiro smiles faintly, willing the light blush dusting his cheeks to go away. He likes the way his name sounds on Keith’s lips. “It’s good to meet you.”

~*~*~*~*~

Keith Kogane, if the last name on Flat 16.07’s letterbox is any indication, had moved in at what was presumably the start of a new school year for him a few months prior. To Shiro’s limited knowledge, Keith keeps a few plants on some cinderblocks on his balcony, ceramic pottery adorned with echeveria and sempervivum and burro’s tail. Shiro’s neighbor in question is watering the succulents now, wind gently carding through black locks of hair gleaming in the bright afternoon sunshine. Ellie jumps on the cinderblocks, watching Keith avidly; he shoos her off when she gives one of the plants an intently mischievous look, a twinkle in her green feline eyes.

“You know, you should try talking to him,” remarks Pidge offhandedly, blunt nails clicking against her laptop keys. “Staring at your neighbor in agonizing heartache through your drapes is not going to make him notice you.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Shiro immediately refutes, turning away from the view beyond his flat. “Also, I thought you had class today?”

“Skipping.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling the ridge of scar tissue. “Why are you really here, Pidge?”

“Key beneath the doormat, way too obvious.” At Shiro’s unimpressed expression, she huffs. “Look, I didn’t want to go home, okay?” mutters Pidge petulantly, and Shiro finally realizes that she’s avoiding his gaze. “It’s. Too quiet.”

Shiro sighs, carding his hand through his hair. “I…I don’t think your parents would be too pleased that you’re hanging out at my place.”

“Whup, there it is.” She slams the lid of her laptop down vehemently, startling Shiro as she points an accusatory finger at him. “That, right there. Look, what happened with Matt was –”

Shiro goes rigid. “Can we not –”

“We don’t _blame_ you, Shiro, don’t you get it?” snaps Pidge. “You might have been the one behind the wheel, but it was not. Your. Fault.”

“You don’t have to make me feel better, Pidge,” sighs Shiro. “I –”

“Look. I know I was really angry with you before. But – you don’t need to keep beating yourself up over something that’s already happened that you can’t change.” Pidge sighs and pushes up her glasses, unruly hair sticking out in all directions. “Matt forgives you, you know. Says there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“I know,” Shiro mumbles halfheartedly. Pidge mutters something with a curse and slides her laptop into her bag.

“Your wi-fi is terrible. Even library _guest access_ is better. I swear you’re still on dial-up on something, jeez.”

“It’s not _that_ bad,” protests Shiro, but Pidge merely scoffs at him, slinging her backpack over one shoulder dismissively.

“Go get a better Internet provider. Oh and Shiro? Come visit when you’re ready. Matt gets bored in the hospital.”

“I – ok,” relents Shiro, finding it easier to just agree than to continue arguing with the one person who had more stubbornness than her entire family combined. “Eventually.”

“Soon,” Pidge says adamantly, shooting him a firm look that tells him she isn’t taking no for an answer. The door clicks shut, leaving Shiro standing there to rub his temples in frustration.

It’s not…it’s hard to face the Holts, and the guilt had never abated, never lessened. Sinking into the couch and closing his eyes, Shiro tries to recollect his thoughts, tries to move on.

_Scritch._ Shiro’s brows furrow, grimacing as he blinks up at his ceiling fan. The noise repeats again. His gaze redirects to the balcony, mouth curving upwards and darker thoughts fading as he spots a small silhouette through his curtains.  It bears ears and a swishing tail as it paws the glass. Squinting through the sheer drapes, he can still faintly see Keith still out on the balcony, stooped low like he’s hunting for something that fell, his back turned to Shiro’s window.

_“You should try talking to him.”_ Pidge’s voice resonates in his ears, wry with a tinge of amusement. He inhales, lets the air circulate through his lungs. He can do this. He doesn’t know why he’s so self-conscious; there’s nothing to be afraid of.

He turns the handle.

“ _Mew_.” Ellie’s ear twitch forward at him, tail swaying happily.

“You’re a real menace, aren’t you?” hums Shiro, smiling a little helplessly as Ellie’s head butts against his leg, rubbing against his shin with a pleased purr. His anxiety slides away as he stoops down to stroke the space between her ears. Gently scooping her up, Shiro straightens, peering over where he can clearly see Keith clearing up pottery fragments, a mound of soil and a rather forlorn-looking plant testament to whatever destruction Ellie had undoubtedly wreaked.

“Definitely a troublemaker,” says Shiro wryly. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he scolds, but Ellie only blinks up at him innocently before snuggling into his chest and mewling contentedly. Huffing in mock annoyance, Shiro sucks in a final breath and takes the opportunity that’s presented itself.

“Looks like you had a bit of vandalism going on,” calls Shiro. “You didn’t see the culprit by any chance, did you?” Keith jolts up, head twisting from side to side in confusion until he spies Shiro.

“Uh, not really,” refutes Keith as he stands, looking adorably perplexed as the joke flies completely over his head. “It was Ellie again, she decided to –” his eyes widen, and he rounds about, surveying his balcony and the inside of his apartment frantically. “Oh god, she ran off _again_ , where did she –” He finally spots the satisfied tabby curled up in Shiro’s arms and heaves a sigh of relief. “ _There_ she is.” His cheeks tinge pink in some embarrassment as he pieces together Shiro’s original meaning.

“Do you want me to come over and return her?” asks Shiro. While their balconies are connected by a single railing, there’s still a good three feet of open air separating them and Shiro doesn’t want to risk trying to pass a squirming tabby to her rightful owner sixteen floors above concrete and a busy road.

“I –” Keith swivels around, peering into his apartment again. Shiro stares in mild puzzlement until Keith turns back to him again. “Actually, is it okay if I – if it’s not too much trouble with you – if I come get her later? She’s also torn up a bag of cat food and it’s _everywhere_ ; I can’t let her inside right now and I need to get to class.”

Shiro’s eyes widen. “I – yes! I mean, yes. That is _completely_ okay,” he manages without tripping over his tongue. The sheer relief in Keith’s expression makes Shiro’s heart practically _sing_.

“Great. Will around seven be all right?”

“Sure. I’ll be around.” At the last minute, Shiro offers a small hand wave, smiling and blushing a little. Keith waves back as he disappears inside. The sliding door shuts, and Shiro’s just glad that Keith can’t see the involuntary grin spreading on his face from ear to ear.

“You’re a godsend, Ellie,” breathes Shiro. She proceeds to blithely gnaw on his finger.

Still. There’s no time to waste. Shiro frantically surveys the flat. It’s not…it’s not _incredibly_ dirty, but…it’s definitely not fit for new visitors or curious felines with a proclivity for exploring, either. Since, well, everything, he hasn’t exactly kept the place in amazing shape.

“Oh god,” mumbles Shiro, pacing wildly as Ellie starts eyeing his couch with an interested gleam. “I need help.” There’s no way he can make his place presentable and keep an eye on Ellie to make sure that she doesn’t get herself into trouble. Is his house pet-safe? Oh god. Shiro had no idea. Hamsters gnawed on electrical wires, right? Would Ellie do that too?

He sighs, grabbing his phone off the table and scrolling through his contact list until he found who he was looking for. Pidge probably wouldn’t be coming back, and if he remembered correctly Hunk was probably meeting Shay at the library today. Which left…

“Hey, Lance? It’s me, Shiro.” Shiro presses the phone between his ear and shoulder as he quickly herds Ellie away from where she’s playing with the curtains. She mewls at him in protest, trying to squirm past him as he strokes her fur in apology.

“Shiro? What’s up? If this is about the video games you loaned me –”

“Not that. Just come over, if you’re not busy. I need help.”

“Yeah? Whatcha need the Lance-master to do?”

Shiro groans at the awful nickname. “I need you to help me pet-sit. Kind of.”

“Uh…what? I mean, I can, but last I checked, you had zero pets.”

“And..maybe…” Shiro covers his face with his hand and cringes at himself. “I could probably use a little advice on some stuff.”

“Ohh. Wait. I think I know what you’re talking about.”

“What? No, you don’t.”

“Nope! No take backs, I’ll be there in five!” The line goes dead, and Shiro wonders _just_ what exactly he got himself into.

“What have I done?” he asks nobody in particular. Ellie tilts her head at him and mewls questioningly.

“Yeah,” mutters Shiro, pinching the bridge of his nose as he grimaces. “I figured that as well.”

~*~*~*~*~

 “Okay, so first of all you should, you know, show your hot neighbor how good you are at cooking. Like you know, hiya! Ha! And then finely chop onions like a sexy beast. Do you know how hard it is to chop onions without crying?”

“ _Lance_.” Shiro glares at him, already wondering why he had thought asking _Lance McClain_ for ‘wooing’ advice had been a good idea. However, Lance barely pays any attention to him, far more interested in leading Ellie in a mad rush around the living room in a bid to catch the glowing dot of the laser pointer Lance had produced from his pocket with exaggerated flair. “I figured we could, you know, _keep it simple_.”

“Fine. But you know, I just think that it’d be cool to show him that not only can you cut onions sexily without crying, but you can also cut them with a super _cool_ metal arm. But if you do cry, that’s also okay, too. Just shows that you’re sensitive. People are into that, right? I bet he totally is.”

“I...I don’t know about this, Lance.” Shiro glances down self-consciously at his prosthetic. “I mean, sure, I can do _some_ tasks, but everything takes longer than it should and –”

“Relax!” Lance swings an arm around his shoulders, turning the laser pointer off. Ellie skids to a stop, avidly searching for the elusive light. “Ok, well, if you don’t want to cook in front of him, we can just start now so that it’ll be done by the time he gets here, which works even better. What do you have in your fridge? Maybe we can make lasagna or something.” Lance strides into the kitchen, wrenching the door open and peering inside.

“….Ok, so does your freezer also look like this, or does it at least have _some_ microwave food?”

Shiro shrugs awkwardly as Lance helps him grab the dirty plates from the table and set them into the dishwasher. “I’ve been busy,” he protests, defending himself. “And yes, I do in fact have microwave food.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” mutters Lance, pressing buttons until the dishwasher starts up, a low hum of energy that becomes background noise. “Hunk would cry if he knew the state of your refrigerator.”

“Probably.” Shiro’s willing to admit that much. “But yours isn’t any better though.”

“Touché. Well, we can worry about food later.” Lance grins as the sound of Ellie’s paws skittering across the floor. She pokes her head around the corner, watching them from her vantage point from the coffee table curiously. “You, my friend, have a kitty you need to endear yourself to.”

~*~*~*~*~

“Ok, so here’s the deal: ‘ _we ordered too much pizza, do you want to come in?_ ’ That’s all you gotta say.”

“What if he says no?” Shiro fidgets, butterflies swooping low in his stomach.

“Then we will literally have too much pizza. Which I can then pass on to Hunk. Perfect Plan B. Nothing lost, nothing wasted. Chillax! By the way, who the hell is this neighbor, anyway? I’ve never seen you so hung up on anyone before. What’s his name?”

“Uh, his name’s Keith. Keith Kogane.”

“ _What_?” Lance’s shriek echoes through the living room. Shiro all but startles in shock at the way Lance is bristling. Even Ellie, who had been letting Lance play with her paws, starts slightly, ears twitching backwards in a sign of alertness.

“Do you know him?”

“Know him? He’s my _rival_! We’re in the same university program!” Lance’s chest puffs out. Ellie jumps out of his lap to wander off, tail swishing in the air. “Dammit Shiro, I thought you had better taste than falling for a guy with a mullet who thinks he’s better than everyone!”

“That’s not – he doesn’t – wait, is he actually like that?” Shiro’s fingers knot themselves into the hem of his shirt.

“Shiro, I know we’re friends, but I can’t let you do this!” protests Lance wildly, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“Wait, maybe he’s not such a bad guy,” Shiro placates wildly, but Lance interrupts him.

“That’s not the _point_! Shiro, rivals don’t share pizza with each _other_! That’s not how rivalry _works_! There are limits to what our friendship allows, you know! You can share like, I don’t know, a beer or something with rivals, but not _pizza_!”

_Ding dong!_

Lance looks like he’s considering jumping out Shiro’s balcony as Ellie mewls, clambering up Shiro’s bookcase in an exploration for flowerpots to smash.

“Shiro, I’m sorry but I can’t fraternize with the –”

“Lance, the reason I invited you over is that it would be more casual!” hisses Shiro in a hushed voice. “I know I’m asking a lot from you, but please, just stick around?”

“Fine,” mutters Lance, throwing his arms up in the air. “Fine, but only because you finally let me get Hawaiian toppings.”

“Thank god for that,” mutters Shiro, striding towards the door. “And keep an eye on Ellie!” he calls back at the last second. Only after he hears a disgruntled affirmative from Lance does Shiro turn the locks. Wrenching the door open, he smiles breathlessly at Keith.

“Hey! Um, hi.” Shiro smiles at Keith blindly, praying that his overenthusiasm can be mistaken for cordiality. “Glad you could make it.”

“Not at all. Thank you so much for doing this – I know I must seem like a terrible pet owner.” Keith grins sheepishly at him. He sniffs the air. “Is that pizza?”

“Yes! Actually, um, my friend and I, we ordered too much – do you want any?”

“I…I don’t know.” Keith shifts his weight from one foot to another hesitantly, cautiously. “I don’t want to intrude; I’ve already troubled you with Ellie –”

“Ellie’s been great, she hasn’t done anything,” laughs Shiro, bangs falling into his eyes; he smooths his forelock back nervously, nerves making him antsy. “Really, you’d be doing us a favor if you helped us out.”

“Well, I –”

“Shiroooo!” Lance calls in a stage whisper around the corner. “Ellie won’t move from my lap, I can’t get up!”

Keith blinks in mild confusion then exhales, a small, abashed grin teasing the corners of his lips. The tiny smile is a treasure Shiro thinks he would move mountains for. “She does that a lot to me, too. She’s uh… probably not going to move anytime soon.”

“Then join us,” offers Shiro, heart leaping up his throat as he prays desperately that this will work. “It’ll be good company.”

Keith’s head tilts slightly, mouth quirking up, and Shiro internally swoons all over again. “I guess I can’t say no to that _and_ pizza.”

He steps in, toeing off his shoes before Shiro can even request he take them off, and Shiro is too frazzled to even begin feeling happy about such an insignificant yet important detail.

“Anyway, uh, so I mentioned you to my friend and apparently you guys know each other?” asks Shiro, guiding him towards the living room. “Lance McClain?”

“Don’t think I know him.” He says that just as Shiro rounds the corner, the inopportune comment exposed to Lance’s indignant and sharp hearing.

“Excuse _you_? We’re rivals! You know, neck and neck and all that!” Lance glares, though his fury is somewhat diminished by the soft scratches he’s delivering to the sprawled out Ellie on his lap, her eyes closed peacefully and unaware of Lance’s ire over his apparently one-sided rivalry.

“Oh, I remember you,” frowns Keith, and Shiro can’t tell if that’s an _I vaguely remember you kind of_ frown or a _you’re really annoying_ frown _._ “You –”

“Right, so, uh,” pleads Shiro, discreetly slipping his phone out of his pocket. “Dinner? You guys must be hungry. Keith, you can sit anywhere, it doesn’t matter.” He plops down on one of the couch cushions, subtly tapping out a short _SOS CODE LANCE_ to the first person on his emergency contact list and hitting send. He can only pray that Hunk will understand the short missive. Keith takes a seat next to him, warily glancing at Lance.

“So, uh, Lance, how long have you two known each other?” asks Shiro desperately, racking his brains for conversation starters. He casually slides his phone back into his pocket, readjusting as he opens up the pizza boxes.

“Since first year, I figure?” mutters Lance, glaring daggers at Keith even as he helps himself to a slice while balancing Ellie on his lap. “Keith’s top of the class.”

“Oh, um, wow.” Shiro smiles widely. He wonders if it looks too forced. “That’s really impressive.”

“Not really,” mumbles Lance under his breath. Shiro shoots him a glare, but if Keith could hear the antagonism in Lance’s voice, he gave no indication.

“Thanks so much for letting me share your pizza _and_ taking care of Ellie,” says Keith again as he takes the slice nearest to him.

“Hey, Ellie’s a real sweetheart,” replies Shiro warmly. “She hasn’t caused us any trouble.”

“Don’t let her fool you; she’s just as troublesome as the other cats I used to foster,” mutters Keith fondly.

“You foster pets? That sounds really cool,” supplies Shiro. He manages a small bite of his pizza, ignoring the fluttery nervousness settling in his stomach. “Do you volunteer at an animal shelter, then?”

“Sometimes, when I’m not busy.” Keith shrugs modestly, finishing off his first slice and grabbing a second. Shiro notes he avoids the Hawaiian slices. “It’s good since I usually just foster cats for short periods.” He glances at Shiro again. “You a cat person or a dog person?”

“I like both,” admits Shiro, unable to lie. “I think I’d be better at taking care of a cat though. Less maintenance. What about you, Lance?” He glares warningly at Lance whose face is caught halfway between sulking and demolishing his third slice.

“Dogs are _way_ cooler than cats,” says Lance abruptly. He waves his half eaten slice in the air dramatically for emphasis. Shiro raises a pointed eyebrow when Lance doesn’t _quite_ speak at his usual volume due to the sleeping kitten his lap, Lance’s free hand gently carding through her fur. “They’re loyal and usually don’t vomit random piles of fiber around the house, or tear the curtains.”

“ _Usually_?” Shiro shakes his head. “Never mind, I don’t think I want to know.”

“Yeah?” Keith tilts his head, and Shiro wonders if he imagined the challenging gleam in Keith’s eyes. He hopes he did. “But cats clean themselves, are quieter, and are easily litter trained. Also, they don’t roll in weird things.”

“Maybe, but dogs will unconditionally love you,” Lance fires back immediately. “They’ll protect your home, and they make amazing companions. A dog is a man’s best friend, right?”

“Oookay.” Shiro racks his head for a topic change, sensing the incoming argument. “ _Anyway_ –” A text notification chimes, interrupting him. Lance mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like _quiznak_ as he fishes out his phone and expertly holds it between his shoulder and ear.

“Yeah, Hunk? What’s up?” Shiro thanks his lucky stars as Lance nods. “Oh, that’s bad luck. Sure. I can come get you. Text me where you are? All right, see you in a bit.” Lance looks up as he ends the call, his expression slightly apologetic. “Hunk blew a tire, needs me to pick him up.”

“No worries.” Shiro is quick to reassure him. “You can bring the Hawaiian slices with you for him.”

“That’s fine, but uh, I’m more worried about Ellie.” Lance gestures helplessly at the tabby still snoozing in his lap.

“I’ll get her.” Keith leans over, gently nudging Ellie. “Wake up, girl.” He gingerly tries to scoop the snoozing tabby off Lance’s lap, but Ellie bats his fingers away, yawning as her tail flicks irritably. “ _C’mon_ – there we go.” Ellie grumbles in Keith’s cupped palms but readjusts herself as she closes her eyes again. “Sorry about that.”

“Nah, it’s fine; she’s cute. But you know what?”

“What?”

“Dogs are still better than cats!” Lance declares triumphantly. Before Shiro realizes it, Lance is already running out of his apartment. Keith stares in bewilderment at Lance’s back just before the door swings shut with a loud click.

“Sorry,” Shiro resists the urge to hide his face in embarrassment. “He likes having the last word.”

“I – yeah, I could sort of tell.”  Keith deposits Ellie in the vacant seat that used to be Lance’s spot. “So, uh, how did you meet him?”

“We met through a mutual friend of ours. Pidge Holt? She’s a first year in IT management in your university, actually.”

“I…think I might have seen her around?” Keith says uncertainly. “She used to come to our side of campus a lot.”

“Yeah.” Shiro sighs wistfully.  “Something like that. Again, sorry about Lance, I know he can be a bit of a handful sometimes but really, he’s a good guy.”

“It’s fine.” Keith’s mouth turns upwards as he softly gazes down at the sleeping kitty nuzzling into the denim of his jeans. “He was good with Ellie. Maybe better than I am. She’s been the hardest one to manage, so far.”

“Seriously? She seems so lovable, though.”

“Everyone except me.” Keith grins bashfully.

“You’ve housed a lot of cats, then?”

“I guess you could say that,” admits Keith. “Usually not longer than two or three weeks, if I’m honest.”

“Still, that’s pretty amazing. I don’t think I could do it.” Shiro laughs sheepishly and scratches the back of his head. “I’d probably get too attached to them.”

The corner of Keith’s lips quirk up. “It’s not so bad. There are always new arrivals coming in, so it’s never dull.”

“I guess.” It’s not exactly what Shiro meant, but he lets it slide. “Anyway, I should probably let you get going, if you need to go. Do you want the rest of the pizza?”

“Nah. Thanks for the food, though, I appreciate it. And thank you for having me over.” Keith smiles at him warmly, probably the widest and the most genuine one that Shiro’s seen yet. “I had fun today.”

Shiro’s heart feels like it’s twisting into palpitations as he feels a warm flush spread over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “I did too,” he says, getting up to open the door for Keith. “Ellie’s welcome here any time. And you are too, of course,” he adds hastily, and Keith laughs as he pulls on his shoes.

“Thanks. I…guess I’ll see you around?” Keith straightens, careful not to disturb Ellie who’s now curled in the crook of his arms.

“Yeah. And, uh,” Shiro shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m not too knowledgeable about pets, but if you ever need help, you can always ask me.”

Keith blinks in surprise, but then his expression softens, like he’s warming up to Shiro. “Thanks. And, Shiro?” he sticks out a hand. “It was really good to meet you. Properly, I mean,” he amends with a soft smile playing along the corners of his lips.

Shiro hesitates for a split second, unsure of himself as he gazes down at the proffered hand. Keith’s warm expression falters; it’s the motivation Shiro needs to abandon his misgivings and extend his right arm to match Keith’s. The metal appendages grasp Keith’s hand a little clumsily, but Shiro manages. Keith adjusts his grip to accommodate Shiro’s and smiles up at him firmly, the warmth rekindling in his gaze as he never breaks eye contact.

“It was great getting to know you better as well, Keith.”

Keith waves back as he returns to his apartment with Ellie. Only when Keith is fully out of view does Shiro sigh and let his door swing shut, sliding the deadbolt in with an emphatic click as he tests his prosthetic fingers in frustration.

He wishes he could feel the heat of Keith’s palm lingering against the metal.

**Author's Note:**

> First sheith fic! Hope you guys enjoyed :)
> 
> Leave a comment or kudos, they make my day and help me gauge if people are interested in reading more :D


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